Her eyes were far away, looking into that middle distance, the place of dream and vision and possibility, and then, in another second, she came back, shaking her head and smiling apologetically. "It must sound silly," she said.
He shrugged. "Most dreams sound silly, but that doesn't mean there isn't a deeper meaning to them. Dreams are . . . profound, somehow. Glimpses into ourselves, I think. I don't know that I really believe in prophetic dreams, but I think that dreams can tell us a great deal . . . about the dreamer."
"Really?" He saw a mild challenge in her smile. "And what would that dream of mine tell you about me?"
He chuckled. "I think I'm being put on the spot. Well, dreams are made up of our waking experiences, there's no other possibility there. As my colleague Kevin, a true rationalist, might say," Tony said, using Joseph's cover name, "output depends on input. You can only get out what you put in, with variations owing to the dreamer's creativity and imagination. I'd suggest that your dream was the result of several pieces of data that were fed into your brain, to continue the analogy.
"We were talking in the car about prophecies and visions, so it's not unnatural that you would have a dream that seemed like one. As for its content, you must have heard about the design in the sand found near here the other day, and your subconscious mind developed the bird image coming down from the sky. You said you've seen the design in petroglyphs, and it's been used a lot in those
Crow
movies. Also, you had a fairly traumatic experience earlier, what with that trucker, so all in all, it's no surprise you had a dream—or
vision
, if you will—like that."
She stuck out her lower lip for a moment, as though it were an organ capable of judging the validity of argument, then pulled it back in as she smiled. "Several objections, counselor. First of all,
what
design in the sand?"
"You haven't heard about the Indian designs?" he said.
"I haven't heard about anything. I was in the back country before I ran into you, and I spent all day today south of 40 shooting Saguaros. I can show you six rolls of film to prove it. As for those
Crow
movies, I've never seen them—I don't like violence."
"But didn't you see anything on TV about the designs? The triangle and the stepped pyramid?" He was fishing now, unsure whether there had been any local television coverage.
"I was exhausted when I got back today," she said. "Took a hot bath and crashed. My dream woke me up, and here I am." She held out her hands, fingers spread.
Tony had no doubt that she was telling the truth. Still, a dream was a dream. "Okay," he said, "but it could be just coincidence. Like Kevin said, do you know how many times—"
He was interrupted by the waitress, who set down his plate of eggs and bacon with a studied flourish, asked, "Anything else?" and left before Tony had a chance to answer.
"Give the lectures a rest, and eat," Miriam said. "And let me tell you about my day amid the Saguaros."
He did as ordered. It was the most pleasant breakfast he had had in a long time.
A
n hour and a half after Tony Luciano started eating his eggs, Laika Harris was awakened by the telephone in her room. The clock read 6:15.
"Dr. Kelly?" said the voice at the other end, which, she immediately knew, was coming from Langley. Skye.
"Yes, sir?" She tried to sound more alert than she felt.
"I received your report. As it turns out, you may have an opportunity to observe a body similar to Mr. Lynch's firsthand, after all. Whatever phenomenon was responsible for the first death was thoughtful enough to repeat itself, as we were informed early this morning."
"There's been another . . ." She wasn't sure whether or not to call it a killing. ". . . death?"
"Yes. And in your vicinity, too. One might almost see a pattern forming, if one had a suspicious nature."
He gave Laika the name of the dead man, Ralph Begay, and the location where the body had been found, then told her that it had been taken to Gallup General. "One of those interstate things," Skye said. "The body was found in Arizona, but the nearest major hospital was in Gallup. I did, however, make certain that the body would not be returned to the family until representatives of the National Science Foundation's Division of Special Investigations had an opportunity to observe it. So may I suggest that your next stop be Gallup? You are expected. And I wouldn't worry about rushing—I doubt there will be any further deterioration of Mr. Begay by the time you arrive."
There was a click, and Laika found herself listening to a dead line. It was like Skye to hang up with no acknowledgment from his underling. He gave his commands and expected them to be obeyed. It was an attitude that made him so hated and so efficient.
But he had said that there was no rush, and Laika was prepared to take him at his word. She fell back into bed, knowing that she would not sleep again, but relishing the rest nonetheless.
"I
don't know why we can't at least give her a ride," Tony said over his second breakfast, a bran muffin and a cup of coffee. "I mean, she said she was heading there next—wanted to take some photos of the Indians around the pawn shops and bars and all."
"You just couldn't wait to see her again, could you?" said Joseph.
"Hey, I told you I ran
into
her, that's all. I mean, Christ, she was right over there in that booth, so what am I supposed to do, ignore her?"
"That was a possibility," said Laika.
"You want to look suspicious?
That
would be suspicious. People out here are friendly, Laika." Tony knew the only reason she didn't reprimand him for using her real name was that no one could hear them in the booth where they sat. "Giving her a lift to Gallup can't do any harm, can it?"
"Why should we?" Joseph asked.
"Why shouldn't we? Besides, I
like
her, okay? Wanta hear me say it? I really happen to
like
her. And she knows a helluva lot about this area, about the Indians . . . she could be useful."
Joseph smirked. "You're thinking with something other than your brain, Dr. Antonelli."
"Yeah, well, at least I got something besides a brain!"
"Boys, boys," said Laika calmly, but with an undertone of force. "Don't make me play den mother, all right?" She frowned and looked down at her empty oatmeal bowl, then back up at Tony. "Okay, Dr. Antonelli, how much did you tell this woman?"
Tony shrugged. "Our covers." Before Joseph could open his mouth, Tony went on. "It's not like anybody else is going to know around here. I mean, that's what covers are
for
, for Chrissake."
"Was she impressed?" Joseph asked.
"Well . . . yeah, I guess, I mean,
I
don't know. . . ."
"All right," said Laika matter-of-factly, as though she had made up her mind some time ago. "We'll give her a ride."
"Oh, Jesus Christ!" Joseph exploded. "Why, Laika?"
"Like Tony said, why not? Do you have a problem with it?"
"She's a New Age airhead, that's my problem."
"She's not a New Age airhead, she's a Catholic," Tony said.
"Sorry, make that an
Old
Age airhead."
Tony reached across the table, grabbed Joseph's wrist, and squeezed. "You can insult me all you like, Joseph, but goddamn it, don't you insult my faith!"
"And don't you get grabby. Let go of me, Tony."
"Do it," Laika said. "Right now." Tony released Joseph, who started to say something, but Laika cut him off. "And both of you, shut up. Not another word. The woman can come with us to Gallup. The ground rules are that we don't say any more about our mission than comes up in normal conversation. We take her to where she wants to go, we say goodbye, and that's that. Understood?"
J
oseph drove. He wanted to have something on his mind, he told Laika, besides listening to Little Miss Psychic. Laika rode shotgun and watched Tony and Miriam Dominick in the rearview mirror.
She didn't mind the woman's company. In this business she ran into few other women, and what she liked about Miriam was that she didn't seem to pry. She didn't ask them about their jobs or why they were in the high southwest, or how long they had worked for the National Science Foundation, or what exactly was the Division of Special Investigations, anyway.
Instead, she talked about the land as one who loved it and was familiar with the buttes and mesas and deserts and the people who lived in them. She talked of how the rocks had been sculpted over the years by wind and water, and of the ancient Anasazi and the Sinagua and the present-day Navajo and Hopi and Zuni. Her words showed respect for the Indians, and a sorrow for what had befallen many of them in the past few decades. Sheepherding had been reduced dramatically, and alcoholism, drugs, and even gangs had all taken their toll on and off the reservations.
"Still," Miriam said, "many people walk in the old ways. They try to preserve what they had—and what they still have. I try to record as much of it as possible, but it's hard. Most of them distrust Anglos, and it takes a lot of patience even to make a little inroad."
"Anglos?" Laika said.
"White people. It was a term my grandfather used. He claimed to be a quarter Navajo, but I believe it was wishful thinking. Still, my family's been out here forever. It used to be Dominique, but somewhere along the way it got anglicized."
"And Catholicized?" Joseph asked.
Laika watched Tony's face harden, but Miriam seemed nonplussed, and Joseph's question held no malice that Laika could hear. It almost seemed as if he were being won over in spite of himself, and wanted to enter the conversation, no matter how awkwardly. "Oh no," Miriam said, "we've always been Catholic, back to France, I guess."
"So," Joseph went on, "you, um, have any more of those visions lately?"
"You're baiting me," Miriam said with a little chuckle.
"Maybe a bit," Joseph said, "but it isn't every day a . . . visionary saves my life."
Laika couldn't get what Joseph was driving at. He didn't sound sarcastic. Tony looked as though he was about to start in on Joseph, but Laika gave him a look in the rearview mirror that he read clearly, and he settled back.
"Well," Miriam said reluctantly, "I had a dream last night." She told them then, about the shape of a giant bird in the desert. From Tony's expression, Laika felt certain that he had heard the story already, probably in the coffee shop the night before. It made little impression on her. After all, people were always having dreams.
She saw an exit off Route 40 for a town called Lupton, and Joseph glanced at her. "Isn't that where . . . ?" he said softly, leaving it unfinished.
She nodded. It was the closest town to where Ralph Begay's mummified body had been found. They were within the boundaries of the reservation now. In another mile they would cross into New Mexico.
Then she saw a dozen or more cars parked near the northern edge of the road, and some on the southern side. People were standing and pointing down at something Laika could not see, and the talk of visions and premonitions inspired her to tell Joseph to get off at the exit there. At the bottom of the ramp, they crossed under Route 40 and discovered even more cars parked on a small road identified as 118. As they pulled onto the shoulder, Laika could see what had so fascinated everyone.
Etched in the gritty sand of the desert floor was a bird, curved wings spread wide, its head featureless, so that no bill was visible. At the base of its thick body was a flaring tail, curved and pointed at the ends, like the wings. Wing tip to wing tip, Laika estimated, the crude drawing spanned a quarter mile.
"Holy shit . . ." Tony said softly, as they climbed out of the car.
"I see the cereologists of the southwest are at it again," Joseph tried to say lightly, but Laika heard tension in his voice. She glanced at Miriam, but the girl was only standing there, looking at the figure and the people moving around its border, her eyes fixed but dreamy.
"This is the same thing you saw in your dream, isn't it?" Tony asked her, and she nodded.
"Come on," Laika said, "I want to look at this."
They walked down a steep slope toward the drawing. The thick, deep lines in the sand that comprised it were several hundred yards away. Other people were coming and going to the drawing as well, many taking photos and videos. Laika didn't see any TV crews yet, but knew that they would appear eventually.